Bloom to Perish
by The Slow Hand Muse
Summary: He can still feel her arms around him. Her scent drowning him in long remembered need even after her death. He can't forget his child, his lover, his precious Rin.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own InuYasha or make any profit off this fic. 

**A/N:** This fic is from the point of view Sesshoumaru if anyone has a problem figuring that out. It's for all those people that keep telling "we want Sessy..we WANT Sessy" in my other fic "**Of Fur and Musk**". Okay, well... heres Sessy in his own little spot light. I just seem to love the mix of angst and lemon. Can't explain the attraction, guess its the parts in me that love tragedy and romance. Anyways, this fic will have gratuitous sexual situations. So if your under age or just a prude, then don't read it. Please be kind, read and leave a review!  
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**Chapter One**

Time had never had much baring, it was a trivial matter when you were eternal. Years could pass like days, cycles of the moon could flit by like fragile petals set adrift upon the winds. But eventually in all things, they decayed, turned to ruin and dust while he stood untouched, unmarred by the ravages of time. And nothing had been more a reminder of the ill conceived concepts of mortality and the brief and brittle lives of humans, than his beloved Rin. How beautiful a flower, how sweetly naive and sheltered his dear child, grown to a maid, never to be mother and unfulfilled in the rites of passage to crone. The world had born her to blossom, left her untended in a savage garden for him to find, to pluck from the shadows of taller foliage and keep. But in the same breath nature had breed her to bloom and perish, to return to which she had come with no one left to lament her divine presence.

No one, but him. Would he in time forget her, his precious and harbored keepsake? Had others come before her and he'd merely pushed the memories aside, washed them away like he would dirt from his claws? No, she was the blood on his hands, to be licked slowly and savored, to be remembered again and again in the rush of the next kill, in the fresh recollection of that coppery libation rushing hot and sweet down his throat. The memory of her would float just beneath his vision, surreal and untouchable, ghostly glimpses of places she should have been. As if she walked behind, just a step or two, always just there out of his line of vision and never more than an awareness of what he'd silently treasured. He knew nothing of regret, if he'd realized to late her potential as anything other than child, it was simply that that was the way it had been meant to be. No sense in him going over things that never were going to happen, or that had not happened. What was left him was just enough, enough to help to fill the part in his heart that had been reserved solely for the smiling little girl and the comely blossom she'd matured into.

Turning from the window, his eyes glanced about the chambers that had once been hers. He'd found himself here more often than not, simply staring out the window, not truly seeing the skyline or the sunset that greeted him with its brilliant and dazzling color spray. Everything was almost as it had been left, all things in order where she'd lovingly placed them, had made it cozy, had made it her own . Even the vases still held the flowers she'd often pick, though they had long since dried and lost their pleasant scents. But the smell of her had been infused into everything here and even the slow passage of time couldn't make it disappear from the drapings on the bed, the nick knacks that littered the shelves. It had proven the strongest pull of all, the sweetest lure in the wee hours of the night when his restless mind could find no sleep.

His feet carried him to the bed, silent footsteps across the crimson rug where she'd spent many hours reading in her later years. Still marked with the stain where she'd cut herself after dropping a vase in her excitement to greet him. The servants never came here, never disturbed him in the solace of this private place, giving over to the superstition that her spirit still roamed the rooms. That an he'd nearly killed the last servant that had dared to tread into his quiet contemplation. Golden orbs traced the darker pattern across the otherwise flawless rug, it'd proven impossible to remove all traces of the damage, but he found he preferred it this way. A little flaw in all the perfection, an analogy he supposed to the two of them.

It was a harsh definition to any that hadn't truly understood the nature of human to youkai. It wasn't narrow-mindedness, it simple was. It would have been like comparing the sun to the light of a candle, though it had the capacity to burn high and bright, it could easily be snuffed and burnt through. The more brilliant the illumination, the faster it ended, the quicker it died out. She'd been blinding in her intensity now that he considered it, radiant and shining all too profoundly and every minuscule moment had been for him whether he saw it or not. He had all the time in the world now to recall each moment with her that he'd neglected then, to memorize the sway of her hips as she ran, reminisce about the way the silk of her kimonos had whisper enticingly. How her laughter had been like the sweet tinkling of tiny musical bells in the distance, clear and pronounced and unique.

Cocking his head slightly to the side, his body suddenly felt weary in a way he couldn't clearly explain. Golden slits alighted once more upon the bed he'd been staring past, the deep rich brown of the spread evoking images of her hair, so silken, so wild and free thrown carelessly across the pillows. The visual pulled at things low in his body, gave reaction to his flesh, stirred his passions even if only inwardly. His stoic features never faulted never shifted from the indifferent slightly bored expression that had comprised his appearance, he was the Lord of the Western Lands, the taiyoukai of the House of the Moon, unmoved and reticent toward the scopes of emotion. They were a weakness he'd learned to overcome at any early age, he was master and let none think less of him. Least they learn the truth at the end of his jyaki whip.

Lowering himself down into the welcoming softness he pushed the weights of responsibility from his mind, titles meant nothing here to him. The world did not rest on his shoulders here, he'd slipped those things aside like removing his shoes at the door. The blankets gave gently beneath his weight, her scent rushing up around him, engulfing him in its heady fragrance and lulling him into a sense of reverie deeper than actual sleep could ever grant. For a long moment, he could feel her arms around him, holding him close, circling him into the remembering warmth they'd shared many times toward the end. Like serene wisps of mist swirling through a silent wood the recollections of her carnal flesh swept over him, supine to the sensations assaulting his senses as if he'd been there all over again, could rouse the honeyed sapor of her essence...


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own anything of the InuYasha series or characters.

**A/N:** Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Please keep em coming, us authors live for those few kind words that spark our imagination and drive us to more. Much love people. Enjoy.

**Chapter Two**

He'd stood at the very same spot, simply watching her sleep as he'd often done in her youth, savoring the innocent expressions flowing across her youthful features in the throws of slumber. But somewhere the days had slipped past him and the little girl had given way to the luscious and lovely form of the woman before him. A slight tilt of the head revealed his wonder at where this had been allowed to happen, had it truly been so many years since he'd brought her back from the dead? The smooth and pale line of a leg revealed to the moonlight came to view to his golden eyes as Rin shifted in her sleep, gave him a path to follow from her dainty toes up along the curvatures of her lean body beneath the flimsy and transparent sheet that barely concealed her skyclad form. The languid fall of dark lashes coming to rest against pale cheeks, the slow and silent exhale of breath and he turned away from the sleeping human, turned to make his soundless withdrawal, just as he'd always done.

"Stay, Sesshoumaru-sama," her voice was small, thick with the clinging dredges of sleep. The simplistic hush of cloth and silk told him she'd risen into a sitting position. Pausing in his departure, he neither turned towards her nor moved further away, unpretentiously content to listen to the even rhythms of her breathing and the melodic mixture of night and mundane sounds made more exotic by her stirring in the less than silent chambers. Tilting his head up and back his eyes fell closed, absorbed in the stillness, trapped within that single moment as a breeze rustled through the room. It spiraled with chilled fingers over his contours, disturbed his hair and set it to floating like silvery threads of some mystical web caught in the dim light of moon and shadow. Her movements told him, she'd inched closer, was yet lingering on the edge of the bed, as if waiting for the ethereal moment to pass. Time drifting by in a slow pantomime, his white hair glistening even in the darkness, ever dancing as he turned slow and fluid toward his ward, arching but a single brow in her direction.

"Hold me, Sesshoumaru-sama, as you once did when I was a girl," her eyes sparkled, as they always had, the rich dark depths holding a tenderness that belayed the kind and genteel spirit beneath but her voice were coated bittersweet, finespun hints at something more, at something deeper and more intricate than the embrace she was seeking. Her normal smile was nowhere to be found, the elegant lines of her face carefully neutral as she raised those searching eyes to her Lord. A soft tremble worked its way over her body, but it had been so subtle a movement only his enhanced sights could have possibly caught such an illusive thing.

"No," there was nothing in his voice, not warmth, not understanding, not distance nor harshness. An unproblematic flat tone, he'd entertained her fancy by even answering at all. He could have merely walked away, he should have merely walked away. It was easy, one foot before the other. All thoughts evaporated into the sting of winters kiss as he began to move again, turning to resume the path that his feet found so familiar. Her sharp inhale of breath spoke multitudes of words unstated between them, of the demand upon her lips begging to be set free. He knew her question even before she'd been able to give it voice. Thusly he'd entertain her a bit more, just as he'd always done. How foolish and lax in his facades he'd been for this human, for this woman, how easy had the years of required policies and dictation of proper social behavior fragmented when she'd asked those meddlesome questions of hers? "Your not a girl anymore, Rin."

Before he could take even two more steps he felt the warm press of her body behind him, the full line of her nude and athletic physique, almost a comforting weight against his back as her slender arms encircled his chest and refused to release their hold upon him. She'd neglected in her haste to draw the sheet with her, had forgone modesty in the pursuit of ensnaring her Lord, just as she'd done as a child. Though she was considerably taller now and it would have been anserine and nonsensical to adhere to his leg. She was a creature of whim but for the old habitual wonts she'd developed in her relations with him. Part of the child had never left her heart and she would ever be a free and wild spirit.

"Release me now, Rin," he couldn't keep the edge of the growl of irritation that had crawled from his throat and into his command. Couldn't help feeling another fine tremor go through her small form at his insistence, couldn't keep the subtle and tangy scent of her fear from arousing his awarenesses. The fleshy mounds of her breasts were pressed even tighter to the arch of his back as she strengthened her grip, buried her face in the silk of his haori and refused to relinquish any bit of the ground she'd gained. He could sense her struggling to catch her breath, was keenly aware of the tightening of her nipples as they rubbed across the silk at his back, little hardened pebbles.

"No," she finally managed to gasp out, the sound of it trembling with an array of unchecked emotion as she adamantly shook her head, stubbornly coming to her final decision. "I'll no longer sit back and let you ignore me from your safe and comfortable distance," she spoke in hushed tones, holding back the moisture glittering in her eyes, the saltiness of them another additive to the plethora of stimuli about him. "I love you, I have always loved you and..." her voice trailed off quietly, left the silence between them swollen and pregnant as the words tumbled through her mind. Her nervousness was translated into him through the press of her body, like an extension of his own limbs, each signal clearly conceived through tactile input.

"And?" he pressed, loosening her grip easily enough so that he could turn to face the girl now a woman, soft wisps of his hair trailing sensual across her pale creamy flesh, drew a faint moan from her velveteen lips in its passing. He'd ignored the other tell tale signs of her state of body and mind, had purposefully looked over the heady scent of her femininity, had never given coherent thought to the implications of what her age had instilled, specially not towards himself and his roles to play. From the beginning he'd been the protector, had sheltered and provided and then in later years had helped to develop the mind that begged for advancement. It'd all come easily enough and he'd selfishly indulged in each and every stage of her frail and passionately mortal years. Why should he have not taken what was offered him? His logic reasoned that this too was another stage, where once her demandings for attention were elementary now they had grown greater and her spirit and flesh needed to be feed, to be catered for by him. Each part of her had in some way belonged to him, it only stood to reason that this too was his to take.

Raising her chin with his hand, he watched the play of emotions dancing within the depths of her eyes, watched the minute gathering of moisture pool at the corners before lowering his mouth, allowing it to hover breathlessly over hers. "Is this what you truly want?" the mere question shocked even him as it left his lips, drew in a deep breath and pulled the intoxications of her sweet perfume. For a moment he thought he'd caught the pungent odor of decay lingering within her other earthly delights, but it was a fleeting observance quashed as her lips mouthed her response "yes" and set alight to his own.


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** In no way do I own Inuyasha, nor make a profit off this piece of fanficiton.

**A/N:** **WARNING **the beginning of this chapter is a lime. I might however be persuaded with enough requests to turn it into a full blown lemon. _shrugs_ Anyways you have been warned. Do enjoy and please rate and review.

**Chapter Three**

(flash back)

"Do as you wish," his only reply, one he'd often given her in her times of decision. It was after all her own choice what came next, if it would come to a pause at only something so harmless as a kiss or the full rapture of her claiming. His body held tight, he could feel the pulsing of his unheralded desires, but in all things he controlled his being, not the other way around. He was master here, but he would do as he bid, and let her continue as she so wished, her control only an illusion till the moment was right.

So very delicate at first she was, gently exploring his contours, nibbling and experimenting with the textures of his flesh, embedding the feel of him in her memories. A giddy sense of boldness had come into her at merely even being allowed to touch him so intimately, with a faint giggle she ran her tongue across the magenta strip tracing his high cheekbone, marveling at the smoothness beneath the fleshy digit. Her delicate features were softened but at the same time set into serious lines of concentration as she experimented with her hands, her lips and her tongue across the defining features of his face.

Golden orbs fluttered closed, allowing her to run her tongue ever so lightly across the darker strip outlining the rim of his eyelid. Suppressing the urge to growl at the slowness of her teasing he raised a hand lightly trailing long fingers and claws up along her naked side, invoking a shudder and a deeply exhaled sigh from her small mouth. It was a careful movement, only a fluttering caress over such a delicate form. But he never grew bolder than that, for the moment, only lightly tracing along her ribs to spur her further to more.

"Do you see me now, Sesshoumaru-sama?" it was a trembling whisper, genteel in it's query as small hands fisted the front panel of his kimono and began to pull the double layered shirts apart and off his broad shoulders. His mokomoko easily enough shifted off to cling to the smooth flesh of his arm after the carefulness of her progression. He could not see the beatific smile overtake her dainty mouth as her lips blazed a trail of sweetly unsullied kisses along the fine line of his jaw. Again those slow torturous experimentations as if through tactile input alone she'd forever emblazon every minute detail of himself into her own being.

Almost involuntary he canted his head slightly to the side, silently giving her permission to trail hot lips and wet tongue down over his throat. A submissive gesture, even if only an illusionary one as he laid the palm of his hand flat against the curve of her ribs ventured further upward with his own teasing caress, skirted the very edge of her small and pert breasts. He was quickly rewarded with a faint mewling from his ward as her mouth found that dip in his throat between the juncture of his collarbone. Lavishly she dipped her tongue into it, diddled it lightly and then more deeply.

Fine lines of electricity dancing along his nerves, demanded he shiver pleasurably with the stimuli but no visible movement shown but for the slow inhale of his breath, a lock of silvery hair cascading reverently over his face and down over the bareness of his left shoulder. Alabaster flesh shone in the moonlight filtered through the windows, glinted with an unearthly hue. It washed the harsh contours of his angular features into softened lines, made the effeminate handsomeness more ethereal and unreal in the false light.

She'd managed to slip both layers of his vestments away with little effort, the silk hushed in the silence of the room as it drifted away to the floor. Somewhere in all the movement, her tiny hands had worked loose the knots and ties of his sash, leaving only his hakama. Despite the looseness of the fabric, his arousal at each of her touches was apparent. It dug almost painfully into her body where she pressed herself so eagerly the firm and hardened line of his own lithe form.

Soon even the last of his clothing lay forgotten in a haphazard pile where it'd been casually tossed off to the side. Her lips continued to blaze a trail down his chest, a small pink tongue meekly testing the texture of one nipple, drawing it to a tight peek and teasing with a nip before moving on to pay homage to the next. A low growl crawled from deep within his throat, vibrated through his chest and drew a startled gasp from the onna as she lowered herself to her knees before him. Curious fingers delicately caressed the path of silvery hair leading from just below his navel and further down to the proud and fully erect proof of her carnal ministrations.

Reaching with a steady clawed hand, his fingers ran light over her scalp, entwined within the locks of her raven tresses as she turned her face up in undemanding awe and deep set admiration. The roundness of her doleful eyes glittering and shining liquid pools of piety and eternal worship to him and him alone. The smile that curled her small mouth burned an emotion fathomless and unexplainable into his heart, resonated through his body with a feral calling. Such utter and complete devotion, such pride and innocence, such guileless love she shown solely to him, her Lord, her lover and protector.

…xxXXXxx…

(present)

Drawing back and away from the visions of the past, he pulled his mokomoko more tightly about him, his single hand caressing down its length in comfort just as she'd always adored doing. He could not forget the image of her in supplication; it bore into his mind, forever in testimony to the impressions she'd left within him. It was one among many of her seemingly innocent displays that would brand into his memory for a long time to come, perhaps never to leave.

His passions though were fast cooling as the air drew over his form from the open window, brought the chill of winter into his bones and raised the taste of death warmed over to the back of his tongue were it lay heavy and cloying as new memories raised and turned in his mind. It all mixed with the wanton appeals of her flesh, so many more nights of ravenously explored delights to never been tasted again.

Drawing into a sitting position a faint sigh could be heard to leave the Daiyoukai's mouth as he drew up a leg in graceful repose and draped his hand lazily over it. Elegantly elongated fingers stretched, sharpened claws clicking vaguely before falling into breathless silence. The stillness settled into the whole of his poised posture as his head turned with the same languid refinement that seemed to be prevalent in the very air of the room.

Nothing moved through the amber and gold depths of his eyes, no spark of recognition, no longing for what once was. Even down to what should have been the windows of his soul he remained indifferent, the regally born mask setting into smooth and ethereally handsome features. It was not that he couldn't feel, sure enough the emotions were there somewhere within him, only barricaded so tightly behind walls of stone and metal and bone and magic that only he could break such arduously persistent locks.

But contrary to ningen belief youkai were not heartless, in all truth they could feel more ferociously than any human could boast. Their emotions were wild, unkempt, bordering on savage and sometimes even simplistic in nature for those of lesser blood if not kept in tightly honed control. Not so fleeting and shifting as a mortal heart but unconfined and unfettered when allowed to roam out of control. Thusly the facades, the cruel and aloft faces hidden behind indifferent eyes, the discipline of supremacy over the weakness of humans taught to even the lowest of youkai kind.

The paleness of his skin shone in the fading light of the moonlight, genteel beams arching and dancing over the supple fabrics of her comforter, giving new life to the rich browns that glimmered like her eyes. A slight tilt of the head and a subdued falling of heavy lids closed his senses to the reminder of those orbs he'd never again see physically. Pulling on his other senses he could feel the dawn approaching, smell the atmosphere spiraling away from the heaviness of night and bringing a faint promise of rain.


End file.
